On Monday, Zoey's preschool class observed St. Patrick's Day. To celebrate, the teachers ransacked the classroom. Seriously. It looked worse than a mid-80s Motley Crue hotel room. They turned the tables over, the toys and pencils and papers were everywhere, trashcans were emptied onto the floor, etc. There may or may not have been an exhausted stripper in the corner.
Seems a band of leprechauns had been playing in the room and left before they cleaned up their mess. How did the kids know this? The evidence: tiny footprints, clover on the floor, and green pixie dust in different areas of the room.
Zoey talked about this nonstop on the way home from school on Monday. She asked, "Daddy? Are leprechauns real?"
No wanting to lie to her, I replied, "Who else could have made that mess?"
"My teachers."
Four years old and she's already a cynic. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised.
I suck as a parent.
Audience Participation Time
When it comes to myths like Santa, leprechauns, the Easter Bunny, and Bigfoot*, I lie to my children. I figure there's only so many years of youthful innocence so I try not to speed up the process. What do you do? Do you tell your children the truth about Santa and the others? Or just wait until some jerk schoolmate crushes their souls one day?*Actually, I know Bigfoot exists. And I'll prove it one day when my wife and I retire to a Unabomber cabin in the Pacific Northwest (but only after we're done touring the nation in the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile).
Song of the day: A Quick One While He's Away by The Who
